


The Truth

by mee4ever



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Bottom Draco, Canon Compliant, Confessions, Gay Draco Malfoy, I'm Sorry, Interrogation, M/M, Oblivious Harry, Pining, Post-Canon, Post-War, Talking, Truth Serum, Veritaserum, but no sex, i think it is at least, minor blaise/draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:55:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6578416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mee4ever/pseuds/mee4ever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I want to be questioned under the influence of the Veritaserum.” Harry was too dumbstruck to say anything for a few moments, so he simply stared. Malfoy sat opposite him, arms crossed over his chest but otherwise not extremely hostile. Harry finally found his voice.<br/>“What? Why would you ever suggest that?” Malfoy gave him a disproving glance.<br/>“Isn't that what you want? To get the truth, easiest way possible? Now, I'm giving you permission to take it, so we don't have to do this all day and neither will I leave here knowing you don't believe me.” There was something in that sentence that Harry should pick up on, he knew it, but he couldn't put his finger on what exactly. He shook his head. Fine, if Malfoy wanted to tell him the truth, it wasn't Harry’s place to deny him.</p><p>Or the one where Harry is too bloody thick to see the truth, even when it's staring him in the face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Truth

“I want to be questioned under the influence of the Veritaserum.”

Harry was too dumbstruck to say anything for a few moments, so he simply stared. Malfoy sat opposite him, arms crossed over his chest but otherwise not extremely hostile. Harry finally found his voice. “What? Why would you ever suggest that?”

Malfoy gave him a disproving glance. "Isn't that what you want? To get the truth, easiest way possible? Now, I'm giving you permission to _take it,_ so we don't have to do this all day and neither will I leave here knowing you don't believe me.” There was something in that sentence that Harry should pick up on, he knew it, but he couldn't put his finger on what exactly. He shook his head. Fine, if Malfoy wanted to tell him the truth, it wasn't Harry’s place to deny him.

“State your full name for the record,” Harry said when he'd managed a couple of drops of Truth serum into a cup of tea and watched as Malfoy chugged it down in one go. The magical quill immediately started writing in the corner.

“Draco Alexander Black Malfoy,” Malfoy said without missing a beat but looked like he choked on his own throat afterwards. His wide eyes told Harry that he hadn't been prepared for the effects of the serum, even if he'd been completely aware of them (since Harry had been forced to state them for him because this was a legal procedure after all). It wasn't like Harry hadn’t felt like choking himself because this blond and grey-eyed little brat shared his god father's name which Harry should've been prepared for since they were technically related, but that was a thing he'd never really thought of before. Also…

“Alexander, huh?” he said and the annoyed crease between the other man's eyebrows was enough to make Harry smirk just a little bit.

"Yes,” Malfoy replied because he couldn't seem to stop himself.

“You have willingly taken the Veritaserum for this interview and are aware of its effects?”

Malfoy muttered an “ _I am now_ ” that Harry dismissed without commenting.

As questioning went, doing it under the serum’s effect was usually both easier and trickier than a normal session. The person opposite you must tell the truth, but they may also not tell the _whole_ truth or you might ask the wrong questions and never get to know the truth anyway. It was a balance that was hard to grasp, especially when some subjects seemed to share less—or more—than they were asked too; not because of the serum but because they didn’t—or did—want to. Draco Malfoy was not one of those who over shared.

“Where were you on April 24th, this year?” Harry asked in his ‘professional voice’ after taking a deep breath. He was going to keep it that way, professional, even if this was _Malfoy_.

“At Blaise Zabini’s,” Malfoy answered coldly.

“The whole day?” Harry asked, scribbling and despite not looking up; he _heard_ Malfoy’s eye roll.

“The whole day.”

“What time did you arrive?”

“I was already in the house. I slept there.” _Professional,_ Harry told himself. Even if all he wanted was to ask more, ask why, because, frankly, it was intriguing. He’d heard a few rumors back at Hogwarts but none of them confirmed and it wasn’t like the two of them had been close enough for _that_ conversation. Not that they’d been close for _any_ sort of conversation.

“Did you sleep there the night between the 24th and 25th too?” Because that was an innocent enough question, right?

“Technically.” Harry waited for more. It never came. Malfoy only held their gazes and Harry sighed.

“Define ‘technically’,” he said tiredly.

“There wasn't much of… _that kind_ of sleeping, that you're referring to,” Draco said and the “smile” he put on, Harry didn't know if it was a grin or a grimace. Harry blinked a few times.

“So what you're insinuating is-” he started after swallowing about four times without luck, but Malfoy interrupted by saying he didn’t believe he insinuated anything. Which was a very peculiar thing for him to be able to say because it meant that he didn’t actually think he did, even if—to Harry at least—he clearly had. Harry said screw it to keeping this as polite and professional as he’d hoped for. He simply wanted to know. “What is your relationship with Mr. Zabini?”

Malfoy looked away while inhaling sharply, but didn’t say anything. He looked like he _thought it through._

“We have a mutual understanding,” he answered after a few seconds. The whole thing baffled Harry more than he’d liked to have admitted.

“How did you just _do_ that?” he breathed.

Malfoy looked genuinely confused. “Do what?”

“You chose your words; you didn't say the first thing that went through your mind.” That was how the potion always worked on him. Like when Malfoy had stated his name, just as soon as the question was open to answer, he did, without a doubt, without second guesses because there simply was no time or ability for it. It made Harry stir in his chair. He knew that some people could stand against the Veritaserum, using Occlumency and he didn’t really know whether Malfoy was utter shit at the art or mastered it. The whole thing was suddenly a bit uneasy.

“Mind you, Potter,” Malfoy said and leaned forward, “that even my second thought, was also the truth.” Harry was quiet for a second, weighing what to say next.

“You told me a variation of the truth,” he settled on.

“One can put it like that, doesn't make it _less_ true,” Malfoy snapped.

Harry blew an aggravated raspberry. “What does this ‘understanding’ involve?” By the look on Malfoy’s face, Harry knew that _that_ was not a professional question in this case.

“A lot of sex, very little emotion, and I think you're overstepping a line, _Auror_ Potter. I am not here to be interrogated about my personal life; I am here to ruled out as a suspect for a murder I did not commit.” His voice got more and more heated for every word he spoke and when Harry’s name was mentioned, Harry had to look away. He wanted to be able to not blush, but hearing Malfoy talk about sex with another man, however fleeting, was nothing he’d been prepared for today. Probably would’ve never been despite the school rumors. That Malfoy stated that he wasn't the murderer under the influence of the Veritaderum, flew right over Harry’s head.

“Right. I apologise, that was highly unprofessional of me, _Mr. Malfoy_.” He emphasised Malfoy's title and name because maybe that would rub him the right way. (Not that he wanted to rub Malfoy any way.) He decided to try and stay on track. “Did you leave the Zabini’s estate during that particular stay?”

“N-” But the word was cut off by the potion. “We went for a beer at a pub, just a block from his house.”

“At what time?”

“I am not sure.”

“Ballpark.”

“Around nine. We only stayed for one beer, not even half an hour.” Harry’s stomach knotted. The murder had occurred at exactly nine o’clock and for some stupid reason he found that he didn't _want_ it to have been Malfoy who committed it, which was an unusual feeling in itself, but ever more weird when Malfoy was sitting right there and acting like a jerk.

“Why did you make this trip?” he asked after clearing his voice and wished it was just as easy to clear one’s head.

“Blaise’s idea. I didn't really care for it but he wanted to stretch his legs. Wanted me to loosen up a little. Not that I-” and then Malfoy snapped his mouth closed.

“What did you just stop yourself from saying?” Harry heard himself ask despite the fact that it was very clear that the information was not necessary for the answer. Draco stared, eyes a raging thunderstorm and he held his mouth tightly shut until he could no longer hold against the potion. When he opened his mouth to speak again, he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Not that I needed to get looser since he'd been fucking me for hours already.”

“You b-” but Harry cut himself off this time. Stating more clearly that Malfoy was a bottom was maybe a little too far, even now. Instead, he asked, while battling a ferocious blush and trying to keep is voice steady, “Did you leave Mr. Zabini alone for any part of the visit to the pub?”

“No.”

“Not even to use the restroom?”

Malfoy sat back in his chair, obviously tired of the whole exercise. “No, as I said, we didn't stay long.” He rolled his eyes.

“Did you leave him for any other extensive amount of time during that day?”

“No. No longer than a few minutes.”

There was no reason for Harry to investigate further. He had all the relevant information regarding the case and yet, Harry found himself wanting to ask more. If he angled it good enough, it wouldn't even be _obvious_ that he asked for nothing more than personal interests. He leaned back in his chair and played the laid-back part he sometimes did to get people to trust him with the truth.

“Are you two close?”

Malfoy didn't look at him like he trusted him in the slightest. “Yes and no. It's a question of perspective.”

Harry asked if Malfoy cared to elaborate which if Malfoy hadn't been under the serum's effect, he would've just given the “kindly fuck off”-eyebrows to; now his mouth also told Harry “no." Harry didn't push it. Leaning towards Malfoy again, he asked, “Do you trust him?”

Malfoy leaned away and looked at Harry suspiciously. “To do what?” The question startled Harry because trust in his world wasn't in regard to a specific action to be made by someone else, it was the notion that one believed they would do the right thing, whenever, whatever.

“I meant generally,” he said with a hand gesture sweeping around the air to indicate ‘generally’.

“Then, yes.” It was an interesting answer even if it was short. ‘ _Then,_ yes’ like Malfoy trusted him, yes, but not to do anything specific, like he had asked about. Harry wanted to know what Zabini had promised to do that Malfoy didn't think he would. Another time, Harry thought, but realised that there wouldn't be another time. He shook his head fractionally.

“Is there any way, one of you would've had the time to apparate to London to commit a murder and apparate back without the other one noticing?”

“Only after three thirty am, after we went to sleep.” And the interview was just _over_ once more. There weren't any questions in the protocol, Harry’s scrambled notes were good as they were, and the magical quill that put all their words on record was hanging still in the air like it also believed it to be over. Harry wondered if he could cast a spell for the recording quill to stop without Malfoy noticing. He decided on not, that it wasn't even worth trying.

“Why did you want to do this interrogation under the influence of a truth potion?” Harry hadn't really meant for it to slip out but it seemed his curiosity overweighed his common senses in this day and age. Maybe it always did, always had.

“I have already answered this question, Potter.” Malfoy voice was dry as a dessert and Harry was quite intrigued by his way of being able to answer some questions so… loosely? not at all? with counter questions?

“Answer it again.”

“Because I want you to believe me, for once.” Of course, he couldn't avoid giving an answer but this one made Harry startle a little.

“What do you mean ‘for once’?”

Malfoy scoffed at that. “You've never believed me before. Why would you now, if I didn't make it perfectly clear that you have to because I can't lie? I know that you always thought I was up to something in school, and I sometimes was, but merely ever the things you were _sure_ of. I thought that if you had decided that I did _this_ , there would be no stopping you. And I didn't do it. I have never killed anyone.” Harry glanced at his watch. The potion was still in working order. Malfoy could only tell the truth. For some reason, it stung because Malfoy could say _that_ under the influence of this potion, whereas Harry could not. It didn't matter that it had been Voldemort he'd killed, it didn't matter that he had had no other choice. What mattered was that he'd killed him and that innocence, the one _Malfoy_ could claim to have and be true about it, Harry would never get back.

“So, you did it because you wanted me to believe you?” As disconcerting as it was, Harry felt some sort of sick pride for that. That he somehow had such influence on Malfoy despite everything. Maybe it only was because Harry was an Auror now but that didn't matter.

“I wanted you to look at me and not see the villain you always paint me to be. I wanted you to see _me.”_ They stared at each other after that for what felt like a million years. For all the things Malfoy could've said, Harry wasn't sure he ever would've imagined that. He'd expected Malfoy to actually put some professional respect into Harry position, but this was way more personal, not just about Harry personally but also about Malfoy himself and their… _relationship,_ in lack of better words.

“Why? Why am I important?” Harry asked, frowning.

“You're Harry Potter,” Draco sneered.

“That doesn't explain anything, not when it comes to you.” Because Malfoy might have cared once upon a time that Harry was the Chosen One and had defeated the Dark Lord when he was only a baby, but that was a different time and once Malfoy had seen what Harry really was like, Harry’s merits had not mattered; at least not in a positive way and nothing like this. He hadn't matter more than being a pawn in the games Draco and himself had been too young to be playing.

“It explains _everything.”_ Malfoy looked horrified. “I want this interview to be over. Right now.” He looked constipated and his thin lips disappeared completely as he sucked them into his mouth and bit down on them. Like that would somehow help when Harry asked another question.

“Why do you seek my approval?” He was being a prat, a selfish prat with ulterior motives, but he didn't care. He was too caught up now, too curious about Malfoy’s answers. The blond man looked like he wanted to kick Harry in the face and managed to stay quiet for quite a long time before gasping:

“Because I've always wanted that from you! That's all I eve-” Harry’s heart bolted, his breath caught in his chest and he asked why Draco couldn't finish the sentence before he could think about it any further.

Malfoy took a very deep breath and exhaled for as long as he could and when he spoke again, he sounded more sober than he'd done during all of the interview. “Because it wasn't true. Potter, end this hearing.”

“Why wasn't it the truth?” Harry was pushing his luck but didn't care. He always pushed his luck and mostly everything turned out fine.

“I wante- want more than your approval. This interrogation is ov… over or I will sue you for misusing the Vertitaserum for personal gain.”

“You're the one who signed up for it!” Harry hissed.

“To be questioned about my involvement in a _murder_ not your lurking questions about my personal life!” Draco yelled and leered at Harry with venom.

“Am I asking the wrong questions?” Harry asked simply.

“ _Yes!_ ”

“Tell me something you want me to ask.” Malfoy looked taken aback for a second and opened his mouth to answer only to keep it open for a long time without actually starting. Like he racked his brain for an answer when it obviously was already at the tip of his tongue.

“I want you… to ask… me… to leave.” It had to be the truth, but Harry just _knew_ that it wasn't the first answer, it wasn't even the second answer, it was something far down the list of things Malfoy wanted to be asked about. It was intriguing, to say the least.

“Really? Can I ask you one more personal question without you suing me?”

“Yes,” Draco said but looked furious at both himself and Harry for doing so.

“Why does it matter to you if I believe you or not? Why does it matter if I “ _see you_ ”? What does any of it matter?” Harry didn't care in the bloody slightest about his professionalism. He just wanted Draco to _tell_ him because he was getting too worked up over this.

“You… matter.”

Harry frowned again. “To whom?”

“Everyone.” It was a second on the list sort of answer but Harry didn't understand what the first would be, so he took what he could get.

“So this is about your reputation then?” Wasn't it always with Malfoy?

“No, and I do not want to say another word. When does the potion wear off?” The definite in the negative answer made Harry sit back in his chair and work his brain on overload. Not about reputation, the thing that had been the most important one in Malfoy’s whole goddamned life as far as Harry could tell. This had nothing to do with it. It took almost a minute before he even registered that Malfoy had asked about the time; he glanced at his watch. Malfoy glanced at Harry.

“Five minutes; if this is not about your reputation, what _is_ it about?”

“ _You.”_

“Me?"

“Yes.” Every word that came through Malfoy’s mouth seemed to hurt him. His features twisted and he took way to short breaths like he had a knife stabbed in his chest that was pushed a little bit further in for every word he uttered. At the same time, it didn't exactly look like he was pushing against the potion at the moment and he answered rather quickly.

“Do you want to lie to me?” Harry asked.

“I don't want to tell you the truth. You do know I am serious about the suing?” Malfoy’s look in his face wasn't as convincing as his words, which shouldn't really be possible but somehow still was. And the answer. Not want to tell the truth and wanting to lie was two completely different things. Harry just couldn't figure out _why_.

“Will you sue me?” he asked instead because that was easier to handle. More… hands on.

“Depending on what you ask next.”

“Is your mother alright? I haven't seen her in a while.” Draco’s eyes first widened and then slitted into a suspicious glare. He must know Harry and Narcissa kept in contact after the war? Didn't he? Not that it was a flourishing relationship, they were more of acquaintances and talked almost exclusively about light subjects, but it seemed they both needed that sort of thing in each other. Mostly they talked over owl mail but they had met up a few times for tea. Surely, she must've told Draco about it?

“Yes, she's fine. Why do you ask?” Maybe he didn't.

“I thought it was something you wouldn’t sue me about. Was it?”

“No.” Draco looked like he was disgusted by his own answer.

“Does she approve of you?” There was just so many subjects Harry and Narcissa never came close to, Draco was still one of the ones that his mother sometimes brought up. Fleeting, and absolutely not in any sort of bad light, but Harry thought it was merely because she wasn't sure what Harry would do with anything but good information about her son.

“Mostly.”

“What doesn't she approve of?” Draco looked like he wanted to give up. Give up _what_ , Harry didn't know.

“You,” he said quietly.

“ _Me?”_

“Yes! Potter, _you._ You and your bloody hair and your lighting scar and your constant death wish. You.”

Harry was confounded. It didn't make sense. “But I am not you,” he said weakly.

“That is correct, Potter, glad we- good of you to notice.” Harry knew he wasn't exactly on top of Narcissa’s list of people she actually liked, she might be disproving of Harry but that wasn't exactly what they were discussing here.

“So why would she be disapproving of _you_ because of _me?”_

Draco stared blankly at a spot on the wall beside Harry’s head. “I do not want to answer that question.” Not for the first time that day, Harry was taken aback and fascinated of how Malfoy could just _not_ answer questions. Frankly, it was supposed to be scary but Harry knew that the potion was soon to loose it's full effect and therefore was easier to hold against. Still, not just anybody could; Harry was one of the ones who definitely couldn't.

“Will you sue me if you do?” Harry didn't want to get sued and on that point Malfoy seemed to be pretty persistent.

“I might d- _want_ to die if I do.”

Harry couldn't stop a snort. “Am I really that bad?”

“No, that's the problem!”

Harry raised his eyebrows and frowned at the same time, probably resulting in his face looking like a total mess. “I am a problem to you?”

“You're something I want to _solve_ and right now, you’re also something I want to _smack._ ”

Ignoring the first part of the sentence because he didn't know what to do with the information, Harry gasped, “Are you threatening me, on record? I work for the ministry, Malfoy, we're _adults.”_

 _“I have to tell the truth,_ Potter!” They both fell back in their chairs, Harry contemplating the fact that he'd just made Draco state that he wanted to punch an Aurora, on record.

“I'm sorry. Please disregard Mr. Malfoy’s previous statement see as it was provoked. I have no further questions.” The magical quill abruptly stopped scribbling and laid itself down.

“ _Sweet Merlin,_ ” Draco murmured and shook his head.

“There are still a few minutes left till the potion wear off, try lying and you're free to go when you can,” Harry said matter of factly. Draco’s gaze snapped up to Harry’s.

“What? Am I just going to sit here and try to lie? What am I supposed to lie about?” Throwing his hands out, Harry told him to say his name was Ronald Weasley or something.

“My name is R- Ro- Draco. Malfoy. But seriously, Potter, that is not something I'd ever say otherwise either. What else do you want me to lie about?”

“It doesn't matter, just tell me you _don't_ hate me or something. As long as your trying to lie, it can be whatever.”

“I don't hate you.” The words stunned Harry but to his surprise, he found that Malfoy didn't look like he would topple over by the meaning of the words rather than that he'd actually said them.

“Uhm… well I, eh… Malfoy?” Harry fiddled with his hands, barely able to look at Draco for longer than a few parts of a second.

“I've never _really_ hated you,” Draco whispered while staring down the table.

“ _Lie_ to me,” Harry ushered.

“I _can't_ ,” Draco shrieked.

“Just… Just be quiet, alright? Another minute and it'll wear off.”

“ _You're_ the one asking questions!” But Harry didn't ask anything else.

So they sat there, trying to ignore one another as Harry didn't take his eyes of his watch, counting down the seconds and every second feeling like a minute. _48_. He'd lost all his cool, everything he stood for as an Auror because he was locked inside a tiny room with Draco bloody Malfoy. He wondered how he had even been chosen to do this. _39._ There were a lot of Auror’s that could've done this interview, it wasn't like Draco was much of a threat. Especially without his wand. It also wasn't like Harry had ever really believed Draco had anything to do with this investigation. _25._ Maybe that was the reason, though. Because even though he was the former arch enemy of this man, he also held an objective stance towards former Death Eaters. He knew that some of them were trying really hard to be good people and the remaining Malfoy’s was on that list. _11._ Maybe he was one of the few who'd grown up enough to put his trust in the people who needed it. _8._ Draco started tapping his fingers on the table. It wasn't even annoying. _5._ Harry took a quick glance up at Malfoy’s pointy face. _4._ Draco also looked up. _3._ They looked at each other. _2._ And then away. _1._

“Try now,” Harry requested.

“I _hate_ you,” he said like he'd been wanting to ever since he took the truth serum. And there it was. For the millionth time, Malfoy said those words, and for the first time, Harry knew they were a lie. All of a sudden, there were pieces clicking together and Harry’s brain worked on overload again when it tried to finish the puzzle before it was too late, but he didn't even know how much time he had left. On the other side of the table, Malfoy was gathering his robes from the back of the chair to shrug on and Harry looked up his face once more, scolded features not looking back. The truth was this: Malfoy _cared_. About what Harry thought of him. About what his mother thought of Draco relative to Harry. About not being the villain, about Harry believing him, about Harry knowing the truth. Draco Malfoy _didn't_ hate him. Draco Malfoy didn't _hate_ him. _Draco Malfoy_ didn't hate him.

Malfoy was already leaving when Harry finally came to a conclusion and said something.

“Do- Do you… fancy me, Malfoy?” It was quiet for a beat. Malfoy had stopped with his hand on the door knob.

“You're a little too late for the truth _now_ , don’t you think, Potter?” he said, not really looking back over his shoulder. Without actually answering the question, without denying it, Malfoy stood for a second like he expected Harry to answer. Then he opened the door and left; left Harry with his hands shaking on a pile of papers, his heart speeding unexpectedly and his mind spinning around the interrogation room like a dolphin trapped in a too small swimming pool.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know. It's not really an ending. It's too open, but this was the ending in my head all along. I have no idea how to continue so there will most probably not be a continuation.
> 
> Like my stuff? [Buy me a coffee!](https://www.buymeacoffee.com/mee4ever)


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